Late Night Talks
by SmoshLuuh
Summary: He opened his eyes a bit, looking at her with heavy lashes. He didn't have much hope for the group, with their current situation and everything, but that was what Carol needed. Hope. It all started with hope and it would all end with it. She had 9 lives. They would all be just fine.


_Hey guys, I had this idea suggested by an anon on Tumblr and decided to write a little drabble based on it. This is post season 2, right after the season ended. It's basic Caryl fluff and there is a little Carick involved because it just kept coming to my head. I'm Portuguese and this is my first time in awhile writing fanfiction, so I'm sorry if this isn't what you were looking for. Please, review and tell me if you found any mistakes, cause that's always important. My grammar and vocabulary are not as expensive as I wish they were but this is what I got… what do you all think? Should I write more? :)_

**The Walking Dead and it's characters don't belong to me. If they did, Caryl would have happened by now.**

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The little ember that kept the group from freezing filled the air. They were out at the open with nothing but their own presence, their guns and their vehicles that were useless without both ammunition and fuel. After the lost of the farm and Rick's little big revelations, everyone was feeling nothing but okay. And that everyone included Carol. She was next to the fire, looking merely at the dying flames as they crackled. Daryl was with his back to her, but she could tell he wasn't sleeping. After what she said, she was sure he would never even glance at her again. And he was trying his best not to.  
Feeling her hot gaze in his back Daryl turned around, facing the woman before him. Why did she have to be so damn different from the others? She opened her mouth to say something, but turned her eyes back to the fire. He could tell she was having trouble with keeping warm. Without thinking, he stood up and gave her his jacket, the one with the wings on the back. It made him feel safe, but she needed it the most.

"Keep it, it'll make ya warm! I'm not sayin' it again!" Carol looked at him with wide eyes, but ended up giving him a small nod, wrapping the fabric around her and lay down again.

"Thank's Daryl." she replied as he laid down beside her, a bit closer than before, falling asleep not much later. Carol looked at him. His face seemed so calm, so peaceful. Like he wasn't afraid. It gave her reassurance and hope, though they had lost everything, that one day they would find a good place to hold up in. A safe one. Turning around, she got a glimpse of Rick keeping watch on top of a stone. He seemed distracted, looking at no one but Lori and Carl, who slept close to each other, sharing the body heat they could. Determined, she got up and began to walk away from the fire, clutching Daryl's jacket close to her frail body.

"Rick?" she called, standing next to their leader. He didn't turn to look at her. Didn't even show any sign that he knew she was there. She touched his shoulder and he finally moved, his eyes inspecting her face. He had black orbs under them, and his face was dark, lost in the night.

"Never mind her, she's just scared." she said, looking over at Lori, then back at him. Rick's gaze never left her. "I know you're not crazy, Rick. You're not alone, either. What you did wasn't easy, and although I sometimes disagree with your decisions, I think killing Shane was the right thing to do." There was a pause. She remembered wanting Ed dead, the rage inside of her growing every day she looked at her now dead husband's face. She remembered praying for a walker to bite him or for him to die for some reason, because she couldn't stand him anymore. She also remembered how wrong it was to feel good when he was finally dead. She understood Rick. At list some part of him. And she didn't want their leader fading to black like she did. After awhile, she kept talking. "I know how it feels. Just, please, don't drag us all into a death path. We all need you to be rational now." He shrugged and nodded briefly, almost nothing in the darkness of the cold night. Satisfied with her answer Carol started to walk away, leaving Rick alone again. When she got to her place next to the fire, she found Daryl was still there. Lying next to him again, she tried to get some sleep. Feeling the sudden movement, he rolled over, and, murmuring a soft grunt in her shoulder, the hunter placed his arm in her middle, scooping closer to her.  
"Try ta sleep woman, we don't have many time till Sun rises!" he whispered, his voice low and hoarse. Carol felt a brief chill run over her and she put her hand on top of his. "Daryl?" she asked. He opened his eyes a bit, looking at her with heavy lashes. "What?" he spat. "Do you think we'll get over this?" He stopped to think. He didn't have much hope for the group, with their current situation and everything, but that was what Carol needed. Hope. It all started with hope and it would all end with it. "Yeah, we will. Now how about shutting yer eyes woman? It's fucking late." he said, more softly than he ever wished for. She nodded, turning over to face him, his arms never letting their grip on her. "You ain't no burden. Seems like yer a damn cat. Ya got away from death again today. Seems like you've got 9 lives or somethin'. Ya probably still have many things to do in this world. Always remember that." he finally said and Carol smiled, getting a glimpse of Rick eying them with the littlest of smirks creeping into his worn out face before closing her eyes. She had 9 lives. They would all be just fine.


End file.
